


Water

by pallasite



Series: Behind the Gloves [101]
Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Almost a narrative poem, Ancient Wisdom, Autobiographical Elements, Backstory, Bigotry & Prejudice, Buddhism, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fix-It, Heavily Autobiographical, Intimate moments, Longing, Love, Memory, Nonduality, POV Female Character, Psi Corps, Reflection, Slice of Life, Telepath Relationships, Telepath culture, Vulnerability, Worldbuilding, telepaths, zen - Freeform, zen koans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasite/pseuds/pallasite
Summary: What was your face before you were born?A telepath misses her lover.The prologue ofBehind the Glovesishere- please read!





	Water

**Author's Note:**

> What is this series? Where are the acknowledgements, table of contents and universe timelines? See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10184558/chapters/22620590).
> 
> If you like _Behind the Gloves_ and would like to send me an email, I can be reached at counterintuitive at protonmail dot com. Do you have questions? Would you like to tell me what you like about this project? Email me!
> 
> I also have an [ask blog](https://behind-the-gloves.tumblr.com/), a [writing blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pallasite-writes), and a "P3 life" Tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/p3-life) with funny anecdotes. :)

She walks home in the cold rain, bundled against the chill of the wind. She slips between the people on the street, trying to become invisible.

It is impossible.

Human reflections - broken, fluid fragments of color and form and motion - mix and run together on the wet pavement.

Human reflections - broken, fluid fragments of thought and feeling and flavor - mix and run together in her mind.

_I still miss you._

Her time has stopped since he left. Every day is different, but every day is the same. The city is crowded, but she is alone.

In her apartment, she runs a bath, and undresses.

She wants to forget the stress of work. She wants to forget the press of minds on the train.

As the tub fills, she looks into the bathroom mirror.

She only sees herself.

Long ago, wouldn't she look in the mirror and half-expect to see his face?

Wouldn't she wake to the feel of him, infused through her?

         _A philosopher once asked Buddha, "without words, without silence, will you teach me the truth?"_

She is a telepath.

Her words are different. Her silence is different. Her truth is different.

Naked, gloveless, she looks like them, but she is not.

She is no onion. She cannot be peeled down, stripped apart, to reveal a "normal" underneath.

Her world is water. Her world is mirrors.

She is the tall grasses in a hurricane.

She is relativity.

She remembers a Zen koan she read once, long ago.

_[Two monks were walking by the edge of the river.](http://buddhistinspiration.blogspot.com/2011/12/knowing-fish-zen-story.html)_

          _"Look!" exclaimed the first monk. "See how the fishes are enjoying themselves in the water!"_

_"You are not a fish," replied the second monk. "How can you know the fishes are enjoying themselves?"_

_"You are not me," replied the first. "How do you know I do not?"_

She is the water. She is the fish.

She slips into the bath, and she remembers him.

His tongue slipping between her lips, to tease her-

          then between her teeth-

                    and his mind slipping into hers.

Gloves cast aside, naked hands pressed together,

Energy flowing,

And the circuit completed.

Didn't her fingers trace colorful eddies along his skin?

Didn't the two of them run together-

Not to fire, but to a slow boil,

Their souls mixing, to aching satisfaction?

_[Two monks were watching a flag flapping in the wind.](https://mindmastery.wordpress.com/2007/02/17/huinengs-flag-a-zen-koan/)  
_

_One said to the other, “The flag is moving.”_

_The other replied, “The wind is moving.”_

_The master overheard this. He said, “Not the flag, not the wind; mind is moving.”_

We are all wind, she knows.

But isn't mind also like water?

_We are telepaths. We feel the pulse of consciousness._

Aren't we all cross-sections of capillaries?

Normals think that people stand apart, our minds like separate little circles-

But if we change the frame of reference, and the angle by ninety degrees, we can see the same blood flows through us all.

_We felt it-_

          Minds pressed tightly together till there was just one, and we - no, there was no pronoun - didn't know whose arm was being lain on.

                    We separated. Mirrors reflected mirrors.

                    _I feel myself, coming from you. You feel yourself, coming from me._

_We are entangled._

We looked into each other.

                    _We are the special ones, the gifted ones._

 _They_ _hate us because they can't have what we have._

                    Our birthright.

And lying together in the stillness, we put aside the need to conform-

                    to perform-

                    we unfolded together-

                    and were who we were meant to be.

          _Without words, without silence, you teach me the truth._

She looks down at her rippled reflection in the tub.

Her hands are bare.

_I still miss you._


End file.
